


Baby It's Cold Outside

by jqueen17



Category: Phan
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Existential Crisis, Feels, Fluff, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phandom - Freeform, accidental violence, mentions of depression, phanfic, psychiatrist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:49:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8834578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jqueen17/pseuds/jqueen17
Summary: Description: Why do people think the holidays are only about happiness? There’s more to it than just that; happiness takes effort. But it is achievable, and there are such things as Christmas miracles. The miracles may just be the little things that matter most.
Length: 3, 768
Warnings: Angst, existential crises, accidental violence, mentions of depression, psychiatrists, and medication; but of course, fluff and feels as well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This is the first part of an unexpectedly long fic that I’ve been working on all week. I wanted to upload it all at once but it was a bit much, so look forward to part two (that has all the fluff lol). I hope you guys like it; let me know!:)
> 
> *Also special shoutout to @the-unknowngirl2009 on tumblr for helping me with the idea for this fic and motivating me to get started on it! She’s awesome and her blog is quality:)
> 
> Enjoy!

Dan

Winter is such a strange season. It’s the harbinger of Christmas of course, which is always good, but it also brings the cold. And the nostalgia. And the emptiness.

Not constantly, of course, but every once in awhile it hits like a brick in the face. And you can’t really explain it, because you’re the way you are and you can’t explain that, either.

Mental illness doesn’t just magically disappear during the holidays, unfortunately.

I don’t necessarily enjoy being Scrooge during Christmas. It has been this way since as long as I can recall. Having Phil around has made it a little bit better, yet I still can not stand the happiness during the season sometimes. I had good reason, but I’d rather not dwell on that for too long.

Even this year, when we seemed to be doing so well in our lives and even with each other, my underlying existential dread was still there. It lingered like the frost on the leaves of the trees, like the pang of regret in my heart every time I saw an old ‘phan’ post on tumblr, and currently, like the smell of Christmas around the flat.

“Phil?” I called loudly, listening for his response from his room down the hall. Silence. I sighed, walking to his room and tapping lightly on his door. When he still didn’t respond, I cracked the door open, seeing Phil fast asleep with a novel in his hands, his glasses still on his face, and a peppermint-scented candle flickering on his bedside table.

“You doofus,” I mumbled, smiling a little and carefully taking the book from his hands and the glasses from his face, setting them on the table as I blew out the candle. My breath rustled Phil’s hair a bit, and he blinked his eyes open to squint up at me sleepily.

“Mm, whatcha doin’?” he mumbled, smiling softly at me. He looked so adorable that I felt the pang in my heart again, and smiled back at him, trying to hide the pain I was feeling as I stepped back to leave the room.

“Taking care of you, silly. You need it sometimes.”

Phil chuckled quietly, still half-asleep and fading fast. “Thank you. I’ll make it up to you, bear. I promise.”

My smile turned from fond to sad in a matter of seconds, and I muttered ‘goodnight’ before closing the door and walking into my room, where I started pacing. I paced when I needed to think, and I thought for about two whole hours before the official existential crisis hit. The time flew by for me, and while it felt like only ten minutes, it was well past two in the morning before I finally just sat down on the floor beside my bed, on the opposite side from the door, and hugged my knees to my chest.

I just felt… empty. I had accomplished so much this year, and built so much of my life and did so many things I was proud of, and yet… it was ending. The next year could bring anything-failure, pain, nothingness. The possibilities were endless, and even though some of the possibilities were positive, the thought of the sheer amount of them was daunting at best.

The tour was over-what would we do now?

We were doing so much on the gaming channel-what goes up must come down, right?

Our fans were loving the new branding-they thought we were in love.

Were we?

Could we ever be?

As my thoughts ran in circles and I felt the numbness–a feeling I was all too familiar with–spread over me, I thought about how happy I had been this year. Genuinely happy. I still had these days and it was especially bad during the Christmas season, but overall, I had never been more content with where I was in life.

I thanked Phil for that. And as I pulled my Haru pillow and duvet down from my bed, I thought about how, while Haru looked like Phil and the blanket was warm like Phil, I would much rather have had the real thing next to me. I definitely would have slept better, and not just closed my eyes and thought all night like I knew I would.

It was the same process every time.

Phil

I enjoyed winter to the max, and I liked to go all out. From decorating a Christmas tree to stringing up lights and tinsel and ridiculous decorations and festivity wherever it would go, but what makes a Christmas tree different from a regular pine tree? What makes Christmas lights specifically more appealing?

The spirit of Christmas, that’s what.

The only thing that I dreaded around Christmas is Dan. He was always so down and upset, and no matter how hard I tried, I never could understand why he didn’t just immediately get into the spirit. He didn’t like going outside to play in the little white flakes that fall from the sky, giving presents or anything. Sometimes I can manage to cheer him up for a day or so, for a baking or day in the life video, but I just don’t get why he doesn’t like it; it’s my absolute favorite time of the year.

But my one goal this year to change all of that. I was going to talk to Dan, figure out why he was so gloomy during December, and try and change his outlook on the season. I didn’t know how. But I was persistent, and persistence was key when it came to Dan.

I woke up the next morning, smiling when I saw my glasses sitting on my book on the table beside me. Without Dan my life would honestly be a lot worse, I could say that for sure. He did little things like this all the time, and the expression “it’s the thought that counts” went a long way with us.

So I decided to make breakfast, to make it up to him. Dan and I were pancake fanatics, so I made a considerable amount for the two of us, wondering why the smell of them hadn’t woken him up yet.

I didn’t want the pancakes to get cold, so I carried the plate to his room, tapping lightly on the door and waiting for a response. The one I received was unexpected, to say the least.

“No.”

That was it. No explanation, no follow-up, nothing. I had a feeling I knew what was wrong, but I asked anyway, the concern clear in my voice.

“Oh, okay. Are you okay?” I called, listening for his reply even though I knew what it would be.

“Not really, Phil. Please go away.”

And that’s when I opened the door, because when Dan was having an existential crisis he always told me to go away. He didn’t mean it, and he felt bad for being so mean afterwards, but he couldn’t really help it. I didn’t blame him-it wasn’t his fault his brain did this sometimes.

I sat the plate on the nightstand, walking around to the other side of Dan’s bed, where he was huddled up on the floor and looking smaller than he should. I sat with him, our backs against the wall and Dan’s shivering arm pressed against my warm one. Despite being wrapped in his duvet, he was freezing.

I scooted closer to him, the entire right side of my body pressed against the left side of his. After a few minutes the shivers relented a bit, but Dan was still staring vacantly at the space in front of him, his thoughts consuming every aspect of his attention span.

I tapped his leg with my fingers, causing him to startle, as if he had forgotten I was even there. I was used to this, so I just smiled, trying not to appear bothered by his behaviour.

“I made pancakes. Would you like some?”

Dan shook his head slightly, not really paying attention to what I was saying. I sighed, the concern from before returning to make the knot in my stomach tighten.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Dan shrugged, not looking at me at all by this point. Trying to catch his eye, I quietly suggested, “I really think you should eat something. You love my pancakes, remember?”

Dan’s eyes seemed to dim, and I wondered what it was I’d said that had upset him. I was trying to be gentle, but Dan was volatile when he was having an existential crisis, and I never knew when I would accidentally step on a nerve.

“Dan, please tell me what’s wrong. I think maybe I could help.”

His eyes flashed, and that’s when I knew the nerve had been stepped on.

“Oh, do you now?” he snapped, his voice filled with anger but his eyes emotionless. “Phil Lester, fixer of everything that goes ary.”

I knew the sting of that jab showed on my face, but Dan didn’t seem to care, still mocking me while staring at the space in front of him again.

“You think food and a smile can fix the world’s problems. Well guess what? My problems aren’t that simple. I thought you’d have figured that out by now, since you went to university and everyone thinks you’re a genius and all.”

I bit my lip to distract me from the prick of tears in my eyes, breathing out a slow breath and speaking calmly to Dan.

“No, I’m not a genius, and university has nothing to do with this. I’m just trying to cheer you up-it’s what I do. You know that. But I’m being serious right now, and I think talking about whatever is bothering you will help.”

Dan simply ignored me. I hated seeing him like this, because sometimes the existential crises started to look alarmingly like depressive episodes, and I felt helpless and useless and unable to do anything to help.

So I did what I had been doing for seven years. I simply comforted him, no matter how much he resisted. Human contact was proven to help in some way, shape, or form, so if that meant I had to hug Dan when I honestly feared he would punch me, then so be it.

He didn’t punch me, but stiffened almost immediately and through gritted teeth whispered, “Phil. I’m warning you.”

I tightened my arms around him, leaning my head on his shoulder. “You know I don’t care. I want to help.”

“Phil.” Dan’s tone was strained, seeming more angry than uncomfortable at the moment. “This isn’t doing anything but making things worse.”

I shook my head, closing my eyes and speaking softly and quietly to Dan, trying to calm his obvious agitation. “I don’t believe you. You always say that.”

And for the first time since 2012, Dan snapped.

“PHIL!” he yelled, shoving me away from him as we both stood. “I tried to fucking tell you! Why won’t you ever listen to me? You push-” Dan shoved me again, making me stumble a few steps back. “And push-” another shove, this one sending a wave of pain through my shoulder. “And push!” One final shove, and I was falling backwards over his desk chair, smacking my head on the desk and landing hard on the floor.

I don’t know who was more stunned, me or Dan. I didn’t immediately feel the pain, but I knew it was there. I was just staring up at Dan, my mouth open in shock, as he clasped his hands over his mouth and stared at me in wide-eyed horror.

“Oh my god, Phil, shit shit shit shit shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

I shook my head, a wave of dizziness crashing over me. “It’s fine,” I said shakily, managing to pull myself to my feet, wobbling severely. “I know, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m good.”

Dan was rapidly shaking his head, looking scared to death and sorry and ashamed all at once, his eyes filling with tears. “I didn’t-I wasn’t going to-” Dan cut himself off, turning on his heel and nearly running out the door. I heard the front door slam a few moments later, and I finally felt the pain in my head and back and shoulders that I had been ignoring in favor of Dan.

It hurt. A lot. I collapsed onto Dan’s bed, unable to stand for any longer, and let the tears have their way as I reached up to touch the back of my head, which was slick with blood. I breathed in and out slowly, closing my eyes for ten seconds before standing and walking into the bathroom, staying as calm as possible as I cleaned and bandaged the back of my head to the best of my abilities.

I took two aspirin before returning to Dan’s room, taking my shirt off and collapsing once again onto the bed. I was worried about him, but there was no way I could find him in the state I was in right now, so is settled for closing my eyes and drifting to sleep from the medication I took, able to somewhat pretend Dan was sleeping next to me. His bed smelled like him, and it was warm like he usually was, and I missed him even if he was pissed at me.

I guess that’s what love was to me. Because I wasn’t even the least bit upset at Dan.

Dan

I did a lot in the few hours I was gone from the flat. It was a Tuesday, the 20th, and my feet knew where I was going before I had consciously made the decision.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself stood in front of a psychiatrist’s office. I hated doctors and hospitals, but even more so than that, I hated the doctors that could get inside people's’ heads and prescribe meds however they wished.

But this needed to be done. I needed this, and not just for myself, either. I needed this for Phil. Because I couldn’t live with myself at the moment, and saying sorry wasn’t going to be enough this time.

I’d yelled at him lots of times before, but he knew I didn’t mean any of it. This was the first time I’d ever laid a hand on Phil without good intentions. I’d meant to hurt him. And that part of my brain, that temper and uncontrollable aspect, needed help.

***

It was about four hours before I returned to the flat, which was eerily quiet and dark. I peeked into the lounge and kitchen, looking for Phil, and then his room, where he also wasn’t in. I was so focused on trying to be quiet that I didn’t see Phil at first when I walked into my room, clicking the door shut before I even noticed him.

He was sleeping, which was good, I supposed. I sat on the bed next to his sleeping figure, desperately trying not to jostle him. He looked so peaceful, the look of shock and hurt from before completely erased from his features.

And then I saw the bandage, and resisted the urge to hurl.

I did that. I ran my fingers lightly over the bandage and through Phil’s hair that surrounded it, tears silently rolling down my cheeks.

I did that. And bruises, which I only now noticed, littered the porcelain skin of his shoulders, from where my hands had hit him repeatedly.

I did that.

As soon as my fingers grazed one of the bruises, Phil’s eyelids fluttered, immediately squeezing shut again in pain.

“Dan?” he murmured quietly, forcing his eyes open to look at me. And then he did the stupidest, most Phil thing in the world.

He smiled at me.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he whispered, trying to sit up before I gently pushed him back down.

“Stop,” I said softly, just as Phil finally realized I was crying. He lifted a hand to my face, running a thumb under my eye to catch the moisture that was still falling steadily.

“Dan, please don’t cry,” he whispered, looking as if he was going to cry too, of all things. “I’m okay. It’s not your fault-I’m not mad.”

“But you should be!” I exclaimed, lowering my voice when he winced at my volume. “I can’t believe I let myself do that. I’m so, so sorry, Phil. Please just be mad at me. It’ll make me feel better.”

A smile was twitching on his lips, his fingers drumming lightly on the side of my jaw. “No,” he said simply, resisting my complaints and sitting all the way up. “Where did you go?”

I sighed, accepting the change of subject. For now. “You know Dr. Rhy?”

Phil’s eyes went wide, searching my face. “You-you went to a psychiatrist? You?”

I nodded, looking down and smiling a bit. “It wasn’t that bad. Took a while though; apparently I have a lot of baggage.”

Phil huffed out a breath in rueful amusement, still giving me the same awed look as before. “But you did that because of what happened earlier? You did it because of me?”

“I did it for you,” I corrected, not meeting his eyes. I was too embarrassed and ashamed and weak. “I can’t stand that I did that to you. You just wanted to help, and I hurt-” my voice broke, a sob building in my chest. “I hurt you and I can’t live with myself knowing that could happen again. So I got help. To make sure it won’t happen again.”

Phil let me cry for a moment, not rushing me to look at him or talk about it. He played with my fingers, intertwining them with his until I was ready to talk.

“Okay,” I sniffled, clasping his hand tightly in mine. It was where my strength came from. “You can ask. I’ll talk. You were right-I need to, more often. We need to.”

Phil accepted this, not immediately interrogating me but instead asking, “was Dr.Rhy nice?”

I nodded, smiling a bit. “I was a gigantic mess but she was really supportive. Very nice lady. She likes my humour.”

Phil chuckled before asking his next question. “Did she help?”

I nodded again. “We scheduled appointments for every Tuesday, and she gave me her card so I can call if I’m ever having a particularly bad existential crisis. And…” I trailed off, taking a deep breath before admitting the next part. I couldn’t hide things from Phil. “She prescribed me some mild antidepressants and anxiety meds. They’re not addictive, and it’s only for if I’m having a panic attack or depressive episode. For immediate help.”

Phil was quiet, mulling that over. He knew I hated medication that made me feel out of control, and even more so than that, how much I hated pills.

“You did all that… for me?” he asked softly, his face innocent and loving and amazed. I smiled, completely unregretful of my choice.

“Yeah. I love you, Phil. I’m not risking hurting you ever again.”

Both of our eyes widened at that, and we both tried to speak at the same time before Phil stopped, gesturing for me to go first.

“Dr.Rhy made me realize some things,” I said simply, shrugging and feeling my face heat up.

“Dan.”

I looked up at Phil, who’s eyes were sparkling and smile was so sweet I wanted to kiss him right then.

“I love you too. I’m really not mad at all. It wasn’t your fault.”

I nodded, accepting it. That didn’t mean I didn’t still feel guilty as hell, though.

“But I do have more questions. Is that okay?”

I nodded, taking a deep breath before he fired off the first one, as gently and sensitively as he could, I’m sure. But it still stung like a slap in the face.

“Is there any reason why don’t you like the Christmas season?”

I must have winced, because Phil immediately began to apologize. But I interrupted him, rubbing my hand roughly over my face.

“My family has always hated spending Christmas with me. I’m always wearing black, apparently I sulk even when I feel happy, and my presence just brings them down, I guess.” I shrugged, making it seem like I wasn’t as bothered by it as I really was. “And my dad doesn’t like that I’m not straight, but it’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” Phil responded immediately, his mouth set in a determined line. “When was the last time you spent Christmas with them?”

“About four years,” I mumbled, causing Phil’s eyes to widen. “They thought I was with you and your family and you thought I was with them.”

Phil was absolutely stunned. “Where were you every time I called?”

“Here.”

“And you never thought to tell me so I could bring you home for Christmas?!”

I chuckled, shrugging. “I guess I just didn’t wanted to bother you guys and be a downer there, too.”

Phil’s eyes bore into mine, absolutely serious. “You are not a downer. My family loves you, and I love you. And you’re coming home with me for Christmas.”

I smiled softly, nodding. “Thank you, Phil.”

He just smiled.

Phil

I made Dan eat something before he got to lay down, both of us choosing to stay in his room. He didn’t immediately fall asleep, however, running his fingers through my hair and over the bandage rhythmically, eventually whispering “God, I’m sorry”, his breath making my hair flutter. I shifted closer to him in response, his chill feeling good against my back.

“Why are you always so cold?” I murmured, Dan’s icy fingers on my collarbone making me jump.

“Phil, it’s fucking December in London. Why do you think I’m cold?”

I giggled, partially at his unnecessary swearing and partially at his fingers ghosting over my shoulders.

“Roll over,” Dan asked quietly, and I did as he said, laying on my back and watching as he propped himself up on one elbow, studying the bruises that dotted my skin. He looked disgusted at himself, but proceeded to lean down and began kissing my collarbone slowly.

“Dan, what’re you doing?” I asked, gasping a little when he placed a cold hand fully on my chest.

“Apologizing. Making it up to you. Call it what you like.”

I huffed out a breathy laugh, Dan’s kisses slowing in increments until his head was simply resting on my chest, his arm falling limp across my stomach.

“You dork,” I whispered, kissing the top of his head as I, too, drifted into a peaceful sleep.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Length: 1, 647
> 
> Warnings: This is the fluffy feely part lol
> 
> Notes: Part two, on time! (surprisingly) There will be a part three-the final part-uploaded later this week as well, so I hope you guys are liking it?
> 
> Enjoy!

Phil  
The rest of the week went by far too quickly for my liking, and it was already Friday by the time I decided to call my mum and ask about Dan.

“Child.”

I smiled at my mum’s usual greeting, laughing as I said hello. “Hey mum. I have a request for you.”

“Always asking for things, as usual.”

I snorted, giving her that one. Martyn and I had been demanding kids, to put it nicely. 

“It's about Dan.” That got her attention. “Can he possibly come home with me tomorrow? He can't spend the holidays with his family, and I just thought-”

“Give him the phone.”

I did as she said, sticking my head into the lounge and waving the phone at Dan. He looked confused for a brief moment before smiling; Dan loved my mum.

“Oh, hi Mrs.Lester… Yeah, I'm doing okay, how are you?... That’s good…”

I rolled my eyes, walking back to the kitchen to finish wrapping our presents that we were bringing. Dan was almost overly polite to my mother, mostly because he wanted to make sure she liked him. Which was silly; of course she loved Dan.

About ten minutes later, Dan joined me in the kitchen, sliding my phone back into my pocket and assisting me in evening out my wrapping job. He wasn't going to be the first to speak, and I saw the little smirk on his face that gave away his game.

“Well?” I finally asked, smacking his arm when he tried to conceal a laugh. “You little shit, don't freak me out like that!”

Dan's laugh bubbled out, and I smiled at how happy he sounded. 

“Phil, language,” he giggled, receiving another light smack from me.

“I'm assuming she said yes?” I asked, Dan grinning in response. He acted like such a child sometimes, but then again, we both did, more often than we'd like to admit. 

Sometimes we just couldn't help sliding around in our socks on the slick kitchen floor at midnight, or seeing who could subtly move more things in the flat to throw the other off, or waking one another up when we were having a bad night and wanted to play Sonic at 3am. It wasn't very grown up. But that was okay-we weren't exactly model adults.

Which is why, Christmas Eve morning, we were both running late. Dan got to the bathroom first, the shower turning on as I got dressed, having already taken a shower the night before. I managed to get everything piled together on the kitchen counter by the time the shower finally turned off, and I smacked the bathroom door when Dan didn't come out after a few minutes.

“You're not straightening your hair!” I called. “We don't have time and I need to put my contacts in and brush my teeth.”

Dan opened the door, waving my contact case at me as he walked by. 

“If I'm going hobbit you're going blind.”

I groaned, brushing my teeth and grabbing my glasses off my bedside table on the way to the lounge. Dan was irritably messing with his hair in the screen of his phone, pulling it up and teasing it with his fingers and flattening it again, and repeating the cycle.

“You look adorable,” I smiled, receiving a well-deserved eye roll from Dan.

“And you look nerdy.”

I stuck my tongue out, turning around to grab the stuff from the kitchen. “Call Martyn, see if him and Cornelia have shown up yet.”

“They showed up ten minutes ago.”

And we were running. 

 

“You guys suck at punctuality,” Martyn commented as we climbed into the back of his car, out of breath from sprinting down all those flights of stairs. 

“You suck at everything,” I shot back, receiving a glare in the rearview mirror from Martyn and a chuckle from Cornelia.

“Sibling love,” she rolled her eyes, waving a hand at Dan. “Hey. Didn’t know you’d be coming.”

Dan smiled, looking uncomfortable for a brief moment before I piped up.

“Of course he’s coming. He’s part of this family too, in the same way that you are.”

Cornelia nodded in understanding before lifting an eyebrow teasingly. “The same way?”

I sighed, preparing myself to reprimand her humour when Dan laughed mockingly, sassing her right back in typical Dan fashion.

“As in, am I a dramatic queen that loves a Lester? Yes.”

We were all stunned silent as Dan smirked at our expressions, propping his legs up on mine, which were propped up on the middle console. He crossed his arms behind his head, radiating pretentiousness.

“Yeah bitches, take that. I ain’t afraid of the truth.”

It was silent for about five more seconds before we all burst out laughing, Dan grinning in triumph. I caught his eye, smiling softly as he grinned and intertwining our hands together between us. 

Dan was still freezing. But his eyes looked alive, and the fire that was clearly burning in his heart was enough to keep the two of us warm.

***

My mum hugged Dan first out of the four of us, and I wondered what they had discussed that caused her to embrace him before her own two sons and technical daughter-in-law.

Martyn and I looked at each other, shrugging as Cornelia chuckled to herself. Mum hugged me next, and then Martyn and Cornelia.

“It's about time you guys got here. The party can't start without you!”

“You mean me,” Martyn smirked, receiving an eye roll from Cornelia, two half-hearted glares from Dan and I, and a chuckle from my mum.

“Sure, sweetie. Keep telling yourself that.”

We all cracked up at that, following her into the house and saying hi to my dad, smelling the food before we'd even said anything.

“Mum, you know we're going to try and eat all that before tomorrow, right?” I asked, inching my way to the kitchen.

“Mm, try being the key word. You won't succeed.”

I grinned, raising an eyebrow at the challenge but hugging her instead. 

“Thank you for letting Dan come,” I murmured, kissing her cheek. 

“He's always welcome here, child. You know that.”

I nodded, stepping away from her so she could continue her preparation for tomorrow. I joined Dan by the tree, where he was strategically balancing the gifts we'd brought under the enormous tree, already jam-packed with wrapped boxes and bags.

“Boo,” I whispered in his ear, the boxes he had been stacking tumbling into his lap when he startled.

“Phil!” he laughed, smacking at me. “I was doing so well, too.”

“No one cares about them being symmetrical except you.”

He shrugged, balancing them again and sitting back when he was finished. “No one had better touch those until tomorrow.”

I reached a finger towards the stack, teasing him and sticking my tongue out between my teeth. 

“I could ruin your life right now.”

He lifted an eyebrow, daring me to do it. I grabbed his hand instead, pulling us to our feet. “Have you ever been on the roof?”

Dan snorted at my question. “No?”

I grinned, looking at the clock. 9:56. “Mum,” I called, pulling Dan towards the back door. “Dan and I are going outside.”

“Wear gloves!” she called back, sticking her head into the lounge. “And Dan, wear a hat, sweetie. Your nose is already pink.”

Dan nodded, and we made sure she saw us in our coats, gloves and Dan in a toboggan before we stepped outside.

It was absolutely freezing, and the ladder shook from our shivers as we climbed it onto the roof. Once we had situated ourselves-basically on top of one another-Dan sighed, his breath billowing out in front of us in a puffy white cloud.

“I love your family.”

“They love you,” I replied, Dan smiling at the sky, which was covered in a thick layer of clouds.

“I'm glad. I feel at home here.” He glanced at me, studying my face. “I feel at home with you.”

I looked away, smiling down at the roof. “You're so dramatic.”

“I'm serious.”

He was; I could see it in his eyes. 

“Well, in that case,” I grinned, reaching into my jacket pocket. “Allow me to lighten the mood.”

Panic filled Dan's face for about .4 seconds as I pulled something out of my pocket, but he burst out laughing when he saw what it was.

“Mistletoe? Who's the dramatic one, now?”

I shrugged, holding it above my head. “I have Christmas spirit. Now come here.”

Dan didn't hesitate, kissing me and making my lips burn even though it was freezing all around us. And when something cold and wet touched my cheek, my first thought was that Dan was crying. I opened my eyes, only to see a flake of white land on Dan's eyelash.

I leaned back, looking across the yard. “Dan, it's snowing.”

Dan grinned. “Thank god. It's too fucking cold for it to be doing anything else.”

***

That night, we shared a room, and Dan was so exhausted and full from dinner that he went straight to sleep, almost as soon as his head hit that pillow. His face was buried in my neck, his arm around my waist and the other pressed against my back.

He was freezing, but I wasn't about to move.

I was almost asleep when the door squeaked open, and I saw my mum’s blurry silhouette standing in the doorway. I smiled in her general direction, but I couldn't see her face without my glasses.

“You two are so cute,” she whispered, and I knew that she was smiling. “Are you back together?”

I smiled again, and I saw her head move, as if she had nodded. 

“I love you, Phil.”

“Love you too, mum.”

And with that, she shut the door, and I fell asleep knowing this would be one of the best Christmases I'd ever had.


End file.
